


if my heart is a grenade (you pull the pin)

by squeakymonster



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Fingerfucking, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Trans Hermann Gottlieb, Trans Male Characters, Trans Newton Geiszler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeakymonster/pseuds/squeakymonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then he has reached him, and Newt tilts his chin up so he can get a better angle when Hermann kisses him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if my heart is a grenade (you pull the pin)

It’s two in the morning and both of them are still at work. Newt’s brain is spinning like a hamster wheel, and he is a rock star, he’s a superhero. He starts laughing, and he knows he sounds fucking crazy. He knows he sounds exactly like someone who hasn’t taken his medication in weeks, but he rationalizes that it slows him down. It makes him Aquaman instead of Superman. No one wants to be fucking Aquaman, especially when this is at stake. “Dude, dude, oh my god, stop sitting there staring unproductively at your shitty-ass proof and come look at this.”

“Newton, for the last time, I have asked you to allow me to concentrate on—"

“No but seriously. Come look. You haven’t written a word you didn’t immediately erase in a half hour. You need a break. Yelling at me is, as you constantly remind me, easily the most fun part of your job.” Newt is in a good mood. It’s only on good days that he invites Hermann over the duct tape line. Most of the time they just shout at each other across the lab.

“It’s actually the least fun part of my job, and I spend a great deal of time mourning it; you are a tedious insensitive little man with a penchant for music that would only fondly be considered an abomination.”

“Oh my god, Gottlieb, detwist your stupid fancy fuckin Calvin Klein boxer briefs and let me show you this. I think I got this bit of Kaiju DNA sequenced properly, and it’s amazing. I think they’re much more complicated than we realized before.”

“For the last time, Newton, they are animals. I don’t know what you think you’ve found this time but I assure you it’s little more than lunatic ravings stemming from sleep deprivation and what I suspect is—Well. Anyway. Show me what you’ve found.”

“What were you going to say?” Newt begins, and then, “Oh fuck me, you’re concerned about my medication, aren’t you? You have no fucking right—“ 

Hermann rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say anything, for Christ’s sake!”

“But you wanted to. You think I’ve been looking just a little too crazy around the edges. And it’s not like I haven’t been getting my work done, and it’s not like the quality has suffered. It’s just that when mentally ill people get too visible, you get uncomfortable, just like when anyone displays any actual human emotion that isn’t easy to quantify.” And Newt knows he’s making too big a deal of this, but it’s two in the morning, and he actually has done something pretty cool with fucking alternate universe sea monster DNA (and okay, maybe Hermann is kind of sort of slightly right about the medication thing but his meds make him feel like he’s dead and the choice between being a zombie and being crazy is an easy one to make).

Hermann shifts on his cane and presses his lips together. He is very visibly trying to check his temper. “Dr. Geiszler. If you would perhaps refrain from making egregiously inaccurate remarks about both my motives and my ability to process emotion, I would be much obliged.”

Newt ignores this. Instead, he crosses over the duct tape line, right up into Hermann’s space, no invitation. Hermann visibly twitches. “Yes, Dr. Gottlieb, I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe just that you’ve never fucking shown me any reason that you might give a shit about whether or not I’m medicating.” Hermann looks like he’s about to say something, then hesitates. Newt continues, pressing his advantage. “Nor, not being my psychiatrist, do you know the first fucking thing about whether or not I should be medicating, or how.”

Now Hermann’s grimacing. “Is it possible, Newton,” he says, very quietly, “that I am just slightly concerned about you as a human being?” He takes a step toward Newt, and then another, forcefully stabbing at the ground with his cane.

“It’s possible,” Newt half-whispers, his throat suddenly dry, “but I didn’t think it was very likely.” 

“Didn’t?” Hermann says, one eyebrow cocked. “Past tense?” It’s more tender than anything else Newt has ever heard coming out of his mouth. And then he has reached him, and Newt tilts his chin up so he can get a better angle when Hermann kisses him.

They are doing this they are actually doing this Newt is going to explode. 

Hermann has one hand, proprietary, in his hair and the other sneaking around his waist to tentatively stroke at his back and most importantly his tongue in Newt’s fucking mouth. He’s being almost too gentle with it, though, and Newt wants more. Maybe he would stop being so hesitant if Newt was actually reciprocating a little bit more but as it is, he’s stuck frozen in place, all the motion normally in his twitching body suddenly transferred to his brain and, shit, it feels like he’s on fire inside. He wants to grab Hermann and kiss him hard and bite him, not even in a sexy way except that it would be so. Hot. He wants everything, if he’s being honest.

But as it is, Hermann pulls back a second later and stares Newt straight in the eye. His look is a little searching, a little wary, a little vulnerable. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but Newt cuts him off, suddenly able to speak. “Shitface, did I say I wanted you to stop? Keep going, and don’t be a wimp about it this time.”

Hermann tries not to smile and mostly but not quite succeeds, which makes his face look really weird. Then he growls, “You’re so hungry for it, aren’t you, you pathetic little twat?” which shouldn’t be hot but really, really is.

And Newt can’t deal with it. He seizes Hermann by the ugly fucking sweater and drags them back together, mashing his face into Hermann’s with all the elegance of a randy eighth-grader, and he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care at all.

Hermann bites Newt’s lips fiercely enough that Newt thinks he’s going to start bleeding if he keeps it up. “Oh my fucking god,” Newt snarls, using what few strands of awareness he has left to shove Hermann onto a table, sending piles of papers fluttering to the floor. “Don’t bang your head, idiot. You can’t afford to lose any brain cells.” Newt says, more gently than he means to. He grabs a fat stack of scientific journals from their place on Hermann’s desk and sticks them under his head. 

In answer, Hermann hits him in the back of the knees with his cane, knocking Newt on top of him. He drops his cane on the floor, then grabs Newt by the neck, dragging him forward until Newt is squarely straddling Hermann’s hips.

Newt swallows. “Well. This is nice.” And then he rolls his hips long and slow before kissing Hermann again, because he is a filthy tease. He takes great pride in it.

Hermann groans low in his throat and then, in a move Newt is still somehow surprised at, grabs Newt’s ass. “God,” mutters, “I have wanted this for so fucking long.”

Newt pretends he doesn’t hear that. Instead, he untucks Hermann’s shirt so he can bite at Hermann’s exposed hip bones, cups one in his palm while pulling down Hermann’s pants. There is a very visible wet spot on Hermann’s briefs, just behind the bulge of his packer, and Newt groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, please just let me suck your dick,” and the noise Hermann makes at that is so wrecked Newt thinks he’s going to die.

Newt clambers off the table and tugs Hermann over to where he needs him, so he can kneel and bury his face in Hermann’s cock. Hermann is so hard that Newt just sucks at his dick for a while before licking a little further down and Hermann just bucks his hips up, trying to get better leverage, and he makes this little high noise and, oh fuck yes, Newt is doing that again. 

He is relentless, biting and sucking and kissing at his labia until Hermann is gasping and twisting above him. And then, oh god, Hermann’s coming. He lets out a yell and just grabs Newt’s head, shoving it more firmly against his dick. Newt just moans there because he has come all over his face and Hermann is so fucking hot.

When he’s done, Hermann levers himself up onto his elbows and looks at Newt. He’s got his sweater half pulled up over his stomach and pants puddled around his mid-thighs. His face is bright red. Without moving, he says imperiously, “Come here.”

Newt scrambles up onto the table, still fully clothed, and kisses Hermann enthusiastically. Hermann groans into it, mumbles something about the taste of his come on Newt’s tongue, and Newt is so fucking wet. He rubs up against Hermann’s torso shamelessly, trying to get some friction against his clit. 

Hermann pulls back from the kiss, holding Newt firmly by the jaw. He looks Newt up and down, and then: “You’re so desperate for anything I give you, aren’t you?”

All the blood that belongs in Newt’s brain has been employed elsewhere, so he just nods, eyes wide.

Hermann whispers, like it’s a little bit too shameful to say out loud. “Take off your pants now, Newton.”

Newt bounds backwards off the table (almost falling over entirely) so he can take his pants off properly. He doesn’t bother with his shirt or tie.

The cold air of the lab is delicious on his hot cunt. Newt shivers, just a little bit. He straddles Hermann again, who sits up fully to meet him. They kiss, long and slow, and Newt lets himself fall into it, lets the desperation of this night thus far fall away.

Hermann breaks away from him. Maintaining eye contact, he slides three fingers into his mouth. Newt squirms. Then Hermann guides his fingers to Newt’s clit, rubbing there hard, before sliding them into his cunt. Newt gasps as Hermann hits his g-spot again and again, using his thumb to rub at Newt’s clit and labia every now and again. “More,” he moans, “Fuck me harder.”

Grinning in a way that looks almost feral, Hermann slides another finger into Newt’s cunt. “Is that enough for you?”

“Not nearly, fuckface, but it’ll do,” Newt manages to gasp out between rocking himself against the four fingers Hermann has deep inside him. He keeps trying to grind deeper onto them, shamelessly twisting his hips in little circular movements until Hermann’s fingers are in him past the third knuckle.

Hermann keeps smiling, but he doesn’t say anything, just leans in and presses his forehead against Newt’s, one arm wrapped around Newt’s back to hold him up, the other hand stilling in Newt’s cunt, just pressing long and hard against his g-spot until Newt curses quietly and comes. Hermann fucks him right through it, his face pressed to Newt’s neck, thumbing at Newt’s oversensitive clit again and again until Newt is having a second orgasm. Newt’s smile is maybe a little bit smug as he throws his head back and moans. He fucking loves being able to have multiple orgasms so easily.

Afterward, Newt slumps against Hermann until they both gently lie down on the table, Newt’s face against Hermann’s shoulder, Hermann’s legs dangling off the edge. Hermann pulls his fingers out of Newt’s cunt, and Newt gasps a little bit at the suddenly emptiness. Hermann wipes his hand on Newt’s shirt, which Newt would object to if he didn’t feel so very well fucked. He breathes out, long and slow. He feels tingly and soothed all over.

“If I knew it was so easy to get you to shut up, I would have started fucking you long ago,” Hermann says, but his voice is mild.

Newt bites his shoulder anyway. “Fuck off, you know that was awesome.”

“It was…nice.”

The next morning, Hermann files a formal complaint against Newt for “general disgustingness.” Newt leaves a brand new floral print packer on his desk as retaliation, and plays the Rolling Stones at top volume all day.

Hermann mutters to himself about the racket, but Newt catches him bopping along to “Sympathy for the Devil” while modeling a particularly tricky problem.


End file.
